


four words

by rottenstrawberrymilk



Series: eddie gluskin one shots [1]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Honeymoon, NSFW, One-Sided Attraction, Outlast: Whistleblower, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22890166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottenstrawberrymilk/pseuds/rottenstrawberrymilk
Summary: eddie gluskin x reader one shot
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin/Reader, Eddie Gluskin/You
Series: eddie gluskin one shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661416
Comments: 2
Kudos: 146





	four words

When the sanctuary of the female ward had been destroyed, you had lost your safe place. You had locked yourself in there for weeks after the variants had gotten loose, surviving on loose scraps and old water bottles you found while wandering. At first, all the females in the ward had been bonded together, finding strength in teaming together. However, one by one they were picked off by various variants or their own curiosity. 

You hated the idea of moving from the one safe area that you could always strongly depend on. But if you wanted to live, you knew you’d have to. So, you had snuck past the prowling variants and into the vents. There you had crawled about for what you figured was a good few days. The vents were safe. The vents were good. You preferred blending into the walls. The least smartest thing for you to do was to draw attention to yourself in anyway. You already stood out intensely enough on your own and not just because of the things that made you a woman. So, you tended to shy away from the halls and open areas. You had seen what these variants were capable of. You had seen the decapitated bodies, the shredded flesh, the chewed fingers, noses, toes, the rotting smell of blood and fragments of bone scattered about, sometimes even lodged in the glazed and unmoving eyeballs of their unfortunate owners. 

A normal person would have retched. A normal person would have lost their mind at the sight of the gore and the horrors the asylum and madmen inside of it had to offer. But you were locked up in that goddamn asylum for a reason. And for that reason, you managed to cling to your fragile semblance of sanity. You didn’t know how but you stayed anchored down firmly, your psyche refusing to drift off into the sea of insanity everyone else had. 

The asylum was like purgatory to you. You could not escape. The risk of revealing your spot from the vents and coming near any exits was too great to you. You had heard the loud, rumbling growls of the beast of the variant that often patrolled near them, like he was looking desperately for something or someone to maim. You didn’t intend on his target being you. But you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t last in the asylum either. You were trapped in your own paradox, your own personal hell where you were neither there or gone, where you could neither leave or stay, where you were permanently stuck in the limbo of repetition and grey mediocrity. 

You knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. Your days of hiding and invisibility were severely numbered. And the emptying of your hourglass came sooner than you ever expected when the variant you had seen patrolling the halls so many times before banged against a vent cover, howling, slurring words into them. You didn’t know how he had found you. But you didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. You had to get out of there before he figured out a way to forcefully flush you out where he wanted you to go. That was one of the few things you had left working to your advantage—the element of random surprise and chance. There was only one of the massive, chain wearing, teeth gnashing variant. What were the chances of him being at the exact vent you chose to flee out of? 

You chose to roll the dice when you finally picked a vent to crawl out of. You did your best to keep quiet, but there was little you could do to stop the old floorboards from creaking beneath your weight. They let out an ear piercing squeak as you straightened up to your full height and glanced around the room quickly. No one seemed to be there and you took your first full steps in what felt like years. You let out a soft groan as you stretched, your muscles sore from the cramped spaces you’d been forcing them to function in. 

This was when you were reminded of the first rule of the asylum.

Never fucking hesitate. Not for a damn moment. 

“ **Little _pig_** ,” came the voice of the growling, massive variant that had been hunting you for days now. 

Every second was precious. A second could save your life. You had nothing to lose except your life. And with that thought firmly implanted in your mind, you darted from the room, into the hall, and in the exact opposite direction of the variant’s voice. All you could hear were pounding footsteps behind you. You put on a burst of speed, skidding around a corner. Then, a second, horrifying sound brought you to a cold stop. The sound of cracking wood. If you moved you’d go down into God knows where, and if you didn’t then the variant chasing you would get you. 

The massive variant turned the corner. His broad, muscled chest heaved with his breath as he slowed and lumbered towards you. You took a step back and the wood made an even scarier crack, reminding you of your less than satisfactory situation. The monster of a man before you let out a savage growl. He took another step forwards—a step that sealed your fate. With a sickening snap, the floor beneath you gave out. Your world turned to black when you head smacked against a hard surface—the floor of another level of the asylum.

Meanwhile, Chris Walker paced near the hole, growing from between his skinless lips. Frustration twitched at his rough fingers. Down below, a shadow moved, revealing the position of a man, a variant, drawn by the loud noises. Chris Walker already knew who it was. He knew exactly who thrived beneath the floors of the asylum, the horrible monster that lurked in the darkness at the bottom of the stairs. What was left of his nostrils flared as he spat out words with grunting difficulty.

“Eddie Gluskin. The Groom. You are trespassing.”

The man downstairs looked up, his bloodied eyes glinting as a smile spread on his scarred face. He knelt down as he did so, calling back up towards the hulking variant far above. 

“And what are you going to do it about, Walker?” Eddie returned, with a calm sort of poison. 

He returned his attention to you, indistinguishable and still in the mess of rotting wood and rusted supports. He worked his hands beneath your limp body and lifted you. He tilted his head, hearing the shallow breath from your lips. He knew that he didn’t have the time to stick around. Eddie Gluskin knew full well what Chris Walker did to people who got in his way. So, he sank back into the darkness, with your body slung over his shoulder. 

Eddie returned rather quickly to his section of the asylum, feeling more comfortable now that he was back at what he considered his home. He wanted to waste no time fixing his newest bride. Time was precious to him. Every second wasted was another second he’d go childless. Every second wasted was another second he’d go without the delicate touch of a woman that he so desired. 

His workshop was untidy, as he hadn’t finished cleaning up his last mess of a marriage. A pitiful bride indeed…they had died on his operating table. It was an unfortunate and tragic thing, but all necessary. One day, he would be fruitful in his search. Maybe this bride would finally be the one. Eddie pushed the limp dead body of his most recent ex onto the floor, where it stayed limply, mouth still frozen open in a scream of pain. He rested his newest find’s body onto the metal table. Eddie ran a finger over the dulling edge of the buzzsaw at the end of the table. That wasn’t needed quite yet…so he turned his attention to fastening the restraints around your wrists and ankles. Eddie’s experience had lead him to believe that it was only natural for his precious fiancees to be ridden with fright when they awoke. 

Then, he pulled a chair up and waited.

Eventually, you came to. You felt tight rope against your skin which wasn’t exactly what you wanted to wake up to. You clenched your teeth at the pain in the back of your skull. A gasping breath escaped you that seemed to automatically come with the sudden regain of consciousness. Your fingers arched against cold metal. 

Eddie noticed you stirring and stood up, excitement blooming in him. Oh how he would never tire in his attempt to find the one—the perfect bride for the perfect groom. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake!” He made his way off to the side of his operating table where his eyes met with yours. He was quiet for a moment, his brows furrowing. Your face didn’t seem…right. It didn’t look like the others’. It was softer, more feminine even. Eddie’s heart raced. He swallowed slightly, putting a big smile on his face. 

That’s when you recognized him—at least based off of vague descriptions from horror stories the women in the female ward used to tell. Surely it couldn’t be…no. No it couldn’t be. But no matter how much you denied it, you couldn’t rip the facts from your mind. _Eddie fucking Gluskin_. The Man Downstairs. The Groom. The Thing Below. His pale blue eyes, his sclera set bright red with his own blood, his sharp, almost wickedly handsome face, and his trademark undercut featuring his thick, slicked back dark hair. Your hands clenched but you said nothing. 

“You must be wondering who I am, darling. I’m your beloved, of course. And you are mine.” He reached out and smoothed the hair back from your face. It felt surprisingly soft against his rough fingers. 

You turned your head quickly to side, tracking him from the corner of your eyes. Amusement became visible on his face. He moved his hands down to your hips, unusually full for a man’s, at least according to what Eddie had seen before. The odd traits you held brought an idea to Eddie’s mind. A desperate, insane one, even for him, but an idea he couldn’t shake from his thoughts none the less. There was only one way to test the theory that had come into his brain.

“We haven’t a moment to lose. Worry not, my love, I’ll fix you right up. You’ll be beautiful for our wedding, won’t you?” He purred to you. His hands went to the hem of your shirt. 

Confusion struck you for a moment, followed by extreme discomfort and then realization. It didn’t occur to you that with the combination of the dimness in the room and Eddie’s blurred, ruined eyesight that he wouldn’t realize what you were. 

_Fuck_ , was the only thought that really came to your mind afterwards. 

Eddie lifted your shirt and cold air kissed your skin. Your body moved with each nervous breath you took as you kept your eyes trained on the wall and far away from Eddie. When the hem of your shirt reached your neck, you could feel Eddie freeze up. 

“Oh…oh _my_ ,” were the only words that escaped him before a few, incredibly long and awkward seconds of silence. A furious blush erupted onto your cheeks and your eyes widened involuntarily out of shock when he grabbed both of your breasts and held them in either hand, like he couldn’t believe they were real. “My, my, _my_ ,” he murmured. “Then that must mean…”

The groom’s hands worked their way down your body, over your waist, over your hips. His thumbs slipped beneath the waistband of your pants and then your underwear. When it seemed like he was about to shift it down, you moved your hips as violently as you could to the side. It didn’t matter anyways as Eddie’s hand snaked away from your skin. He had already a clear idea of what made you the most different from his former brides. 

“I must be the luckiest man in the world, darling. You’re _the_ one.” Eddie was unable to even describe the thrill rushing through his veins with every pumping of his rapidly beating heart. Finally, after all these months, God delivered unto him what he had wished for so much. A woman. Just for him. Only for him. 

Your lips tightened upon feeling his lips suddenly against your hand. They trailed up your arm, which you were unable to move do to the restraints. “You will marry me, darling,” he told you between breaths. “And you’ll bare me a child, just as I’ve always desired. We’ll have a family. Maybe more children than just one…” You could feel his smile against your skin as his fingers suddenly intertwined with your smaller ones. Horror forced trembles down your limbs upon understanding what the madman was implying. 

_No fucking way. No fucking way. I can’t. I can’t-_

“Do excuse me, I won’t be more than a few moments,” Eddie said to you. He untangled his rough fingers from yours and you didn’t want to even think about what he might have excused himself to do. 

The moment he left the room, you snapped. You struggled and growled with the effort as you pulled harder and harder at the rope that served as your restraints. You were getting ready to start gnawing off a hand just to get free before you heard the all too familiar sound of wood cracking. The post restraining your right hand had been undone. Quickly, you reached over with it and undid the bindings on your left hand, and then either one of your legs. Feeling suddenly weak and lightheaded, you rolled off the table, your heart racing in your chest, but not for the same reasons that Eddie’s was. Despite your dizziness you made a run for it, shooting out of the first open exit you could see. You stumbled a bit before your head finally cleared and you were able to run correctly, your footsteps light against the wood floorboards. 

Chances were he’d chase you down and you knew it. He knew the sector of the asylum better than you obviously. He’d been prowling down here for years, dismembering countless men in his mad search to find a wife. It made your heart clench in your chest upon remembering his words. According to Eddie Gluskin, you were to be his final wife. And you figured that alone would be a fate worse than death. You shivered at the idea of ever letting him touch you again, of bringing children, his children, into the world via this hellish asylum. You wouldn’t do that to yourself. You wouldn’t do that to any child either.

Your violently shaking hands found a door handle and tried it. It wouldn’t open. You continued down the hall, trying doors until one gave and you slipped inside.

Hearing his voice set off every red flag in your mind. It drifted down the hallway, giving you an idea of where Eddie was. You glanced around the room you were in. No doors, no windows. If you were to hide under the rickety bed or in the cabinet he’d find you in seconds, no doubt. 

“Baby, time is running out…you wouldn’t want to be late to our wedding would you?” He purred lovingly. “We’ll be beautiful together. God himself would cry upon seeing us wed. Will you cry for me too, my bride?” 

Your gaze landed on the vent. You shoved one of the tables up to it, wasting no time. You could hear Eddie’s footsteps becoming clearer and clearer. Quickly, you turned and grabbed the metal frame of the bed, complete with its tattered, soiled mattress and shoved it in front of the door. It would stall him just a few seconds longer. The bruises on your arms tingled when you were reminded grimly of the strength in Eddie’s powerful hands and arms.

Frantically, you jumped up onto the chair, which wobbled under your weight just slightly. You didn’t care. If the chair was going to break beneath you then so be it. As long as your neck would break when you hit the floor, you didn’t mind, because being dead was better than being with Eddie and having his dick anywhere near your breathing, living, feeling body. Your fingers found the edges of the vent and you pulled as hard as you could. It popped loose and you tossed it to the ground. The clattering sound made you wince—you hadn’t willingly been this loud for a good while. It was always about being quiet, running, staying hidden and silent in this hellish asylum. Until Eddie Gluskin came into the goddamn picture anyways. 

You threw yourself upwards, your fingers grasping at the metal of the vent’s insides. You pressed your toes against the wall, shakily pushing yourself further in. Your eyes flicked to the side hone you saw the closed door’s handle move. 

“Oh darling, you must be waiting in there all for me…all mine…” 

He was right outside the fucking door. Your heart jumped in your chest and your muscles seemed to scream in agony as fear compelled you to strain harder and work harder to get into the vent. Cold relief crashed over you as your chest pressed against the bottom of the vent. You were halfway in. 

“Are you pressed up against the door, honey? Do let me in. I’m suddenly feeling quite tired of our game.” Eddie was trying the door again, his patience slowly drying up. 

He pressed up harder against the door, forcing it open. He caught a glimpse of your body, halfway in the vent. Anger welled up in him, but he swallowed it with some difficulty. The other had run like you. The others had tried to escape like you. But he’d tolerate your insolence. Because you were perfect. He didn’t have to make you a woman like his other former and now very dead brides. God had already performed his mutilation for him. You were meant for him. 

The screeching sound of the metal frame of the bed getting shoved to the side rang through your ears. You couldn’t hear the Groom’s footsteps over your beating heart and pounding blood. What you could feel, however, was a tight grip suddenly secured around your ankle. No sound escaped you, but dread cloaked you like a wet blanket, weighing you down. 

“There you are, darling!” came Eddie’s triumphant voice. He gave your leg a yank and his heart beat with excitement as he felt you struggle in his grip. 

The Groom could hear your scrambling to get a better grip on the vent’s smooth surface, but your efforts were in vain as he slowly dragged you out. He savored every moment, eyeing your calves, your thighs, your ass, and your waist as each one appeared from the vent. Arousal knotted his insides as he felt your body trembling violently under his touch. 

Your blood seemed to turn to ice in your veins as you struggled harder and harder to find a grip in the metal. It wasn’t working, Your skin slid along the metal painstakingly. Tears gathered in your eyes as Eddie pulled harder. You clenched your jaw, not a word or a sound escaping you. He had managed to get you all the way out of the vent, but you desperately held on to the edge of it, praying he’d pause to adjust his grip so you could maybe, just maybe, crawl back into the vent while he was occupied for that half second. He paused and miraculously, you felt his hand leave your ankle, which had already bruised. You barely were able to even get in a breath before Eddie grabbed your hips and yanked hard. Silently, you fell from the vent and hit the ground. Your lift lifted in some quiet snarl of pain as the pain of landing on hard wood against an even harder wall thrummed through your body. 

Eddie Gluskin crouched before you, lifting your chin with his thumb easily, the crook of his index finger resting right at your bottom lip. With his other hand, he roughly moved the hair from your face, tracing along the bridge of your nose and to the soft ridge of your brow. 

He inhaled as though ripping you out of the vent was the hardest physical labor he’d ever put his hulking body through. “Such a gorgeous work of feminine beauty,” Eddie purred to you, a charming, easy grin on his face, displaying his unusually white teeth. His smile had about as much warmth as his bloodied, pale blue eyes. 

None. 

The Groom’s honeyed words were pure poison to you. You grimaced and fixed him with a viper-like glare as he leaned forwards, kissing your lips, the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and finally your throat. Your hands tightened into fists as Eddie’s own hands left your face and worked under your legs and up strongly against your spine. You could feel his fingers massaging against your wiry, rigid back in what he probably imagined to be a comforting, delicate way. Easily, he stood up, carrying you like you were nothing.

“I knew it couldn’t have been you against that door. You’re much too light and delicate.” He smiled and you were still as his hot breath hit your ear. His voice dropped lower. “I’ll have to be gentle during our _special_ night.” Playfully, he took your earlobe in between his teeth. To his disappointment you didn’t flinch and your mouth seemed to just tighten. Not a word left your lips. He took his mouth away from your ear. 

Eddie carried you through the doorway. Your arms were beginning to faintly ache from the strain of trying to lift all your weight into a vent that was so high off the ground. You crossed them, rubbing just slightly. Eddie noticed this and decided to take it as a sign of silent defiance. His temper flared again. Irritated, he let you nearly fall out of his arms. Quickly, you uncrossed your arms and hooked one of them over his broad shoulders and neck and put your other hand to his chest to steady yourself. You looked up at the Groom and fixed him with a filthy glare. He simply grinned as he started down the hall once more, although you could see the unfriendly fire in his bloodied blue eyes. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that, honey. You’d look gorgeous if you just smiled for once,” he purred out, teasingly stroking a finger over your slightly trembling leg.

He continued to speak to you as he walked. Variants that had somehow ended up in the halls parted as he came through—some even darted into the nearest room and slammed the door shut with a scream. You didn’t blame them. You had seen first hand Eddie Gluskin’s work. You had seen the bodies strung from the ceilings, the scattered body parts and mutilated genitals. At these horrible thoughts and memories of the senseless gore, your stomach seemed to leap. 

The sharply dressed groom took no notice of the other variants. His eyes were only on you. And he never seemed to stop talking. He never stopped murmuring sweet nothings and sickly sweet compliments to you. He called you beautiful again and again, like a broken record. He called you perfect, speaking to you as though he had been betrothed to you for years, not an hour or two. Maybe an idiot seeking comfort and a loving touch in this hellscape would have fallen for his act. Maybe some desperate fool who saw promise in his obviously deranged hopes and dreams for just a few moments—anything, anything not to die. You were not that person. Eddie Gluskin was a charming snake and a psychopath. A brutal, cruel psychopath. You saw right through him. You understood what he was capable of and just how far his mercy would go. You would not bite the honeyed bait he had dangled before you and would no doubt use again and again.

You hoped this would prove to be his downfall, his slip up, his grave error. He did not know you. To Eddie, you were as unpredictable as he was. He was almost…uneasy around you. He knew he held the power physically, but mentally? Maybe not. Eddie had always been used to getting into his many brides’ heads and toying with them. But for some unholy reason, he was unable to creep into yours. Oddly enough, he felt no spite towards this. Only a strange sort of desire that was unusual to him. Not just the need to plant the seed for his future child that had thrummed in him since his first bride. He wanted you. He wanted to see you crumble before him and fall apart. 

You knew he wanted this. But you had other plans. They weren’t intricate or very well thought out, but it gave you more comfort knowing you had an inkling of a solution to your nasty little forced-marriage-and-definite-consummation-of-said-marriage-to-a-weird-fucking-psychopath problem. You’d let Eddie have his wedding with you. You’d roll over for him like some submissive pet as long as you could. Even if he wasn’t fully buying into your pathetic, submissive weakling act, you just needed him to underestimate you. You would slip through his fingers and after he’d never come near you or touch you again. You wouldn’t let him. Even if it meant you had to take his life. 

The idea of taking his life made you nervous. That’s how he had started out hadn’t he? He’d been a sane, normal person like you. Until he started taking lives. And once he started he couldn’t stop, obviously. How else would he have ended up here with other murderous inmates? But you told yourself you had more control than him. You didn’t have the potential to turn to such gruesome acts like he did. You’d be fine.

You’d. Be. Fine.

Eventually Eddie turned into familiar doors. You recognized the room before you as the one with the mannequins and the severed human heads. How lovely. Your eyes lingered on the wedding dresses. Finally, you understood they weren’t just the decorative, monstrous creations of a madman. They held purpose. 

“Do you like them, darling?” The Groom asked you. His tone was light and it seemed to get even sweeter with every word. “Why don’t you choose one? Would that put a smile on my blushing bride’s face?” 

A bit of irritation struck Eddie when you gave no answer. Not even a nod. Not a single signal of appreciation. Still, he kept the smile on his face. He’d coax words from you. He’d keep playing this game with you. Every time he felt that murderous anger in him, he’d simply remember what a rare find you were—the first woman he’d ever been lucky and graced enough to stumble upon and capture. You were his prize, and soon to be his ultimate trophy, bound to carry on his bloodline and give him the family he desperately desired. 

Eddie lowered you out of your arms onto a wooden chair. You let your arms linger on his shoulders, careful not to snatch them away too fast. You could tell you were pissing him off more and more. Who knew what would make him break at this point. You’d seen what happened when he broke, and it didn’t look nor sound pretty. 

You felt so incredibly small sitting down as Eddie stood straight up over you. His pale eyes met with yours briefly and you quickly averted your gaze from his. He reached out and cupped your cheek gently, muttering something you couldn’t catch because you were so focused on trying not to become violently sick at the sight of the bloodied heads skewered onto the mannequins. To Eddie’s pleasure, you hesitantly leaned your head into his hand. Your obedience thrilled him.

“Go on then, darling.” He smiled widely and reluctantly took his hand away from your face. It was so different from the faces of his former “brides”. So much softer, like it was meant for his touch. He bit the inside of his cheek for the sake of expressing some of his energy, which was slowly building up with each passing second he watched you. 

Slowly you got up from the chair, giving Eddie a cautious glance. You felt his gaze burn into your back as you made you rounds a bit hesitantly about the room. You kept your eyes off the heads on the mannequin bodies and on the dresses. One in particular caught your eye. You approached it, wanting a better look. It was the only one without a rotting skull on it. You reached out to touch the fabric, making your interest known to Eddie. It was a white dress, like true, traditional wedding attire for a bride. It was simple, yet intricate with a long slit up the side where your right leg would be. The neckline was a little low for your liking, but it was nothing compare to some of the other necklines of the other dresses which probably would have been more appropriate in a whorehouse. 

Your fingers traced the embroidery along the cinched waist. You bit your bottom lip to keep the smile from forming on your face once you saw a needle still pierced through the waistline of the dress. He must have forgotten it in there or something…meaning this was probably his most recently made creation. Pretending like you were continuing to feel the material, you shifted the fine sewing needle between your fingers. Praying that god and luck was on your side, you made a ballsy decision in sweeping back your hair and tucking and tangling the needle within your tied back (H/C) locks. Your other hand still rested on the white, silky fabric.

Eddie was even more thrilled when he saw the slight change in your expression. It was new and refreshing to see something other than that neutral, empty look. He was pleased that you seemed to like his newest work. He saw the way you bit your lip and a bit of a smirk worked its way onto his own lips as he approached quietly behind you. He secured his large hands at your hips, pressing his body against yours so your back was at his chest. 

“Thinking of me, I hope,” he murmured to you, moving your hips back against his body slightly with a simple pull of his hands. 

Your body became rigid at the feeling of him against you in this new way. You could feel everything against you. Your short streak of hope and happiness quickly went out. You clenched your jaw and didn’t move. 

You could hear his voice again, hot against your ear and neck. “I’ll help you get dressed, darling. I’ll make you beautiful for our wedding.”

For once, you hated keeping your silence. You would have denied him, said something, anything, to keep his hands from stripping you. But you simply swallowed roughly and held your tongue and statue like posture. 

Eddie’s hands move to the hem of your shirt, he lifted it slowly and you hesitated before bringing your arms up with it. Cold air brushed over your skin. Unnecessarily his large, rough hands reached over the front of your bra. They stayed there for longer than you would’ve liked. You drew a tongue over your dry lips, resisting the intense urge to grind your heel into his toe and bring an elbow into his vulnerable gut. He let out almost a happy sigh, like he couldn’t believe that what he was feeling was real. Of course he couldn’t believe it; after all he was used to improvising when it came to “fixing” the chests his other ex-brides. To your relief, his hands left your upper body and began working on your jeans. Eddie had them off you in moments and when he cleared his throat, you snapped out of your self-induced trance and stepped out of your pants. 

“Don’t turn around, baby,” he warned you when you shifted from foot to foot. “You’ll spoil the surprise. I want to save looking at you for tonight.” 

Your only thought in return to his command was, _It’s already night you fucking cunthead._

You were relieved when he finally moved away from you to take the white dress off of the mannequin. Awkwardly, you stood there, not sure what to do with your fidgeting hands. You raised one arm up over your chest and the other one over your hips to cover up your underwear. You figured it wouldn’t send Eddie into an uncontrollable rampage considering he had somewhat requested for you to somehow cover up… _even though he literally stripped your clothes off you._

Eddie brought the dress over to you and you stepped into it quickly, not liking the feel of his gaze burning into your back and neck. You quickly reached down, bending your knees slightly and pulled the dress up, relieved to be covered by something, despite how foreign it was and what it symbolized now that it was on your trembling body. 

There was an opening in the back of the dress that you didn’t realize was there, spanning down to the middle of your spine. Cold air still lapped over the back of your shoulders, your collarbone, and shoulder blades. The sleeves were, thankfully, long and offered you little comfort in at least covering your arms, which still held dark bruises from your first encounter with Eddie. It felt tight at your waist and you also found that the slit in the skirt went up higher than you would have liked, exposing all the way up to your thigh.

You turned away from the mannequin. Your blood ran cold every time you looked at it…how empty it was. Was he saving that spot for your head? The idea of it made you sick. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that trance like glaze over your dull (E/C) eyes again, that you didn’t notice Eddie suddenly closing the gap between you and him. One of his large hands went to your waist, grabbing it tightly and the other went to the back of your head as he forced his lips upon yours. Your eyes widened to his joy and he saw you go to shove his hand off your waist. His brows twitched with irritation as he deepened his kiss, biting down hard on your bottom lip. A sort of choked whimper escaped you that Eddie thankfully didn’t hear over the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. His tongue pierced through your lips, which you opened reluctantly, not wanting to encourage his violent tendencies even more. Eddie stopped when he tasted coppery blood. He knew the taste quite well and smiled as he pulled away. You put your hand up to wipe the blood from your lip but Eddie grabbed it tightly. You didn’t realize how badly your hand was shaking until Eddie was holding it right in front of you.

“Your lips would look lovely with a bit of red to them wouldn’t they, darling?” Eddie purred. 

Before you could even think about what he said, he forcefully lowered your hand, still gripping it with excessive force. You winced and glanced down, praying for him to let go, already expecting your hand to turn purple from the cut off circulation. The Groom caught you off guard again, making your heart pound hard in your chest as he brushed his thumb gently over your bleeding lip, smearing your own blood over it. He swiped his coarse thumb over your top lip as well and your knees felt weak. 

Eddie smiled at you, showing his strangely white teeth. “Aren’t you just beautiful? You’re my perfect bride. My perfect woman.” 

He leaned in again and you squeezed your eyes shut, expecting his mouth on yours once again. However, there was nothing. You opened your eyes again. “I think I’ve indulged enough, haven’t I?” He released your wrist. 

You rubbed at your wrist, biting back the intense sigh of relief. He waited somewhat impatiently for one of your hands to drop back down to your side. Once it did, he grabbed it, entwining his larger fingers with yours. Nervousness made your heart somehow speed up more and made you feel light headed when your hand disappeared in his. He was so much…bigger than you. The difference almost felt inhuman to you, and it certainly didn’t help that you knew what his plans were for you later that night. You realized that you’d be taking flight from him much sooner than you realized. He was an eager, eager man, and chances were he’d want to throw you onto the first mattress he saw as soon as whatever deluded idea of a ceremony he had in mind was over. 

Eddie lead you out of the room and into the hall. When you lingered behind him, he gave you a brutish yank. This time, you couldn’t mask the cry of pain. You hated yourself the minute the whimper escaped from your lips. Eddie’s eyes caught yours and the intense lust in them terrified you.

“I won’t hold back tonight, darling,” he said to you. 

A set of double doors were already open in the middle of the hall. The Groom lead you through them. The hand Eddie was grasping was shaking so hard you were surprised Eddie’s powerful arm wasn’t moving with it. There was some semblance of a chapel, complete with an aisle and a few rows of chairs set up, some of which were knocked over. There were some bloodstains on the walls and a cross crudely drawn in some blood on the wall. There was a burnt down, black candle at the end of the aisle, right atop the stand where a priest would be. On one of the chairs, there was a white veil with a few tears in the screen and a bundle of thorny stems. The flower heads had been ripped off of them. 

Eddie looked like he was about to release your hand and let you walk down the aisle yourself. But you made the mistake of glancing for just a moment in the direction of the open doors behind you. To your disappointment, he held your hand tight and pulled you close to him. With his other hand, he reached over. He set the veil atop your head, letting the screen drift over your face. You blinked behind it as he stuffed the unholy mockery of a bouquet into your hands. The thorns pricked at your skin and you bit back a hiss of pain. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing another sound from you. 

His broad chest pressed close to you, his waistcoat shifting with every excited breath he took, and you felt suffocated by his musky scent. He held you close, shifting you to his side. Eddie enveloped both your hands in his grasp, forcing them tighter around the thorny stems. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away rapidly, hoping the veil had hidden your temporary moment of weakness. 

“No cold feet, darling. Just relax, and you’ll do fine,” Eddie murmured to you. “You’ll be happy with me.”

With each step he took, dragging you down the aisle, he spoke again, promising obvious sweet nothings. It did nothing to soothe your nerves. You prayed the needle was still tucked tight in your hair. Chills traveled down your spine as he sang softly to you, his breath warm against your ear and face. 

_“When I was a boy my mother often said to me…”_

One of his large hands kept tight at your hand. You could feel the thorns piercing deeper into your flesh. Warm blood trickled over your skin and dripped to the ground, leaving a trail as Eddie pulled you along. 

_“Get married, son, and see how happy you will be…”_

The floorboard creaked with every step he took and every one he forced you to take. Your breath was hitching in your throat and your body shook uncontrollably. Fear thrummed through your body as you were escorted further and further down the aisle by your obviously eager groom. 

_“I have looked all over, but no girlie can I find…”_

Eddie’s hand found the base of your spine, resting along the outward slope of it. You felt suffocated pressed so close to him. His index finger stroked over the your skin that showed through the opening in the dress. Your bleeding hands were shaking so violently the deadened, thorn covered stems shook with them. Eddie’s large hand tightened around your smaller hands. 

_“Who seems to be just like the little girl I have in mind…”_

You thought you’d feel some desperate sense of relief once you reached the alter. You’d be closer to having this all over with. But finally standing before it, you felt no different. The sense of dread in you only seemed to intensify as Eddie turned you so that you were face to face with him. The Groom’s hand slid off your back, over your hip, and found its place again back over your hands. Experimentally, you pulled your hands, trying to slide them from Eddie’s. It was no use. 

_“I will have to look around…”_

His voice completely filled your ears and the empty chapel around you. He was inescapable. He was everywhere. And you were about to marry him. One of Eddie’s gloved hand left yours once more to cup your cheek. His fingers arched, pressing down against your skin. 

_“Until the right one…”_

He leaned in close. His forehead pressed against yours and you closed your eyes tight in a wincing motion. Dull pain throbbed through your palms and fingers. A few drops of crimson stained your dress. 

_“I have found.”_

Eddie held the note for half a moment before suddenly pressing his lips against yours. The hand on your cheek went to the back of your neck. You felt his tongue against your lips. His hand slid further down to your bare back. His other hand finally left your own and grasped quickly at your leg—the one showing through the slit in the skirt. The Groom lifted it, dipping you down with ease as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. A pleasured moan escaped him as he squeezed your thigh tightly.

Hesitantly, you let the thorny stems drop from your hands. A soft hiss of pain escaped you, but Eddie seemed to be too busy pushing his lips against your own, his tongue running along yours excitedly, to notice. You clenched your jaw to hold back a squeak of surprise as he wrapped his arm tighter against your leg. He lifted your from the ground and you moved your other leg so he could support it as well. Your groom’s lips finally left yours as he swept you from the alter and back down the aisle. Shallow, quick breaths stirred at your chest as you stared up at him. His white teeth shone in a massive grin.

“Oh, Mrs. Gluskin! Oh, Mrs. Gluskin!” He chanted like an incantation, pleasure ringing in his tone like wedding bells. 

Tightly, your bleeding hands clung to Eddie as he carried you joyfully down the hallway. You took note of a large window right across from the chapel doors. Eddie’s voice swelled around you and it was all you could hear. All you could feel was his grasp against your skin. All you could smell was his suffocating musk. All you could taste was the coppery tinge of your own blood, still staining your lips a rosy red. Your face was drained of color and your eyes were gaunt as your mind began to race and time seemed to slow. Dead flower petals lined along the hall he was whisking you down, humming happy tunes with that same smile frozen to his bloodied face. You didn’t want to think about how long they had been there—how many brides they had witnessed come down the hall and never return. Eddie crushed the petals carelessly under his heels as he went, leaving the black dust as he walked. 

Eddie shouldered open another door at the end of the hallway. In the room was a mattress that was in surprisingly good shape. Despite the blood stains on it, that was. The metal frame of the bed seemed cold in the dull lighting. He approached it to your absolute dread and you could feel the excitement coming off him in strong waves. The groom dipped his head and his forehead touched yours again as his smile widened, his eyes meeting with yours. 

“Forgive me, darling, we haven’t a moment to waste. Every second lost is another second we go without a beloved child…” 

Without warning, Eddie tossed you onto the bed. You bit back a squeak of fear, releasing it via a strong exhale through your nose, as he fell over top of you. His fingers worked at his bow tie and the collar of his dress shirt as he kissed you again and again. His lips trailed along the corner of your mouth and along your cheekbones, finally coming to rest upon your brow. You felt your hands grab his biceps as he leaned down closer, terrified that he would crush down onto you fully. Eddie’s waistcoat and dress shirt slid down his torso, revealing more and more skin and coarse, black hair on his chest and forearms. He suddenly grabbed your violently shaking hands, bringing the palms up to his lips and kissing them over, drawing his tongue along the healing puncture wounds the thorns from your pitiful, sinful excuse of a bouquet made. You swallowed your hiss of pain as his teeth brushed against you fingertips. Then, the groom’s hands suddenly went to the arms of your dress and easily pushed them down, revealing your chest. Blood involuntarily rushed to your face as his lips and tongue pressed against your collarbone. You could feel his teeth grazing over your right breast. Growing impatient, his hands found stitched seams in the dress and grabbed hold of large portions of white silk. Your heart thudded faster in your chest as you heard each stitch pop. Eddie was ripping your dress literally right off you. The idea of fighting back went straight to the back of your mind at the obvious display of strength meant to intimidate you into submission.

Between heavy, hot breaths he spoke. “Oh, you’re a good girl aren’t you?”

His thumbs slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, warm against your hips. Feeling cold panic wash over you, you held your composure and softly cleared your throat. Slowly, you moved your hips against his. You could see the obvious arousal in his pants and an idea sprang to your mind. Eddie’s hands left your body as he quickly went to undo his belt and slide it out of his trousers. You let your head fall back, savoring the minuscule break from your eager groom. The sound of fingers working at a zipper still set the hair on the back of your neck on end. Nervously, you drew a tongue over your drying lips before wincing at the coppery taste coating them.

Eddie Gluskin brought your attention back to him when his now free hand reached under your body and clasped the small of your back, bringing your hips up to his again. You could feel _everything_ grinding up against you and clenched your teeth. Eddie’s mouth went up towards your throat, then drifted to your shoulder. You could feel him sink them into your flesh in what he probably imagined to be a gentle love bite. Your body’s trembling became slightly more violent and a moan escaped your groom. His other free hand moved to your back at the clasps of your bra and fumbled a bit before you felt the straps come loose. Gently, he moved the bra straps from your shoulders and pulled it straight from your chest. Cool air drifted across your skin, yet a bead of nervous perspiration still seemed to gather at your temple. Eddie sucked in a breath of obvious pleasure. He pulled his large hand away from your back and brought it to your right breast. You turned your head to the side, blinking back tears as he brought a thumb—then a bold tongue over the bud. Shivers still shook your body. Disgust thrummed through you. No doubt he thought he was turning you on. No doubt he imagined your trembling was originated from pleasure like his. How much more wrong could a man be?

Frustration flooded Eddie, distracting him from his ecstasy. A scowl appeared on his face when your lips remained tight and no sounds came from them. Were you even enjoying yourself? He was _trying_ to make you happy as his new wife wasn’t he? How could you not appreciate his efforts after all he had done for you? He leaned in close, desperate to get your attention back on him.

“You never make a sound, darling, don’t you know that? Not a whimper. Not a squeak. Not a scream. Scream for me just this once, baby. I can make you. I’ll _make_ you scream,” he whispered to you, his voice husky and rough against your pounding ears.

With a bit of a vicious growl that rumbled deep from his broad chest, he buried his hand into your hair and held it tightly, his other hand going to the breast he hadn’t gotten the chance to touch yet. His fingers pushed into your flesh. You swallowed thickly and did your best to hold back any sound, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing you scream, cry, moan, groan, absolutely _anything_ that would have made him feel like he won. Eddie would not have this victory. You wouldn’t let him have it. Your silence made you believe in the shreds of your dignity you still had left. And God himself would be the only one who could ever tear the shreds from your hands. That was if you still even believed at God at this point. He had abandoned you the moment he Eddie’s filthy hands grabbed onto you and sullied your skin. Your hair had been pulled out of the tie, spreading out and around your head like a halo. One of Eddie’s legs pressed against one of yours, kneeing it open. The hand clenching your hair at the back of your head left in favor of stripping the underwear from your body, leaving you as bare and vulnerable as he was. 

An idea came to your mind. You feigned pushing your chest upwards and more into his hand and own chest, stretching your arms upwards to open up your entire body tantalizingly. His pale blue eyes glittered with lust. You felt stealthily for the needle you prayed was still lost in your (H/C) locks. You felt a slight prick against your finger and knew you had found what you were looking for. You managed to shift it between your fingers again. 

Eddie’s hips moved closer to you. He leaned in close once more and whispered, “Say _something_ , darling. Tell me what you want…” 

You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek and opened your mouth slightly. Eddie’s nose was almost touching yours and his lips were almost against yours again. His blue eyes met with your (E/C) ones that narrowed in sudden defiance.

Four venomous words left your blood red lips. 

****_“I want a divorce.”_

You forced your upper body up suddenly, letting fresh anger take control of you. Your skull crashed against Eddie’s and a series of vulgar curses left him. Before he could so much as grab hold of you, you beat him to the punch. You wanted him to pay for what he was going to do to you. You flipped the needle out from between your fingers, sharp tip pointed down. Reaching out, pushing your disgust aside in favor of your fury, you grabbed Eddie’s cock and plunged the needle into it. 

A piercing howl of pain escaped him and he retreated from you momentarily. You sprang up from the bed, pulling up the scraps left of the wedding dress that Eddie had abandoned below your hips and ditching your bra and underwear back on the bed. You just had to get the fuck out, you didn’t have time to dawdle.

You found the door, still open and wide, like it had been waiting for your escape the whole time. Wasting not another second, you shot out of it, hiking up your ripped skirt as you went. 

“You fucking _whore_!” Eddie yowled venomously from the room. 

Eddie knew this section of the asylum better than you. He had prowled it for maybe weeks now. He knew every board, every door, every window. He knew where the building was unstable and where variants far worse than he laid in wait. You couldn’t get far, surely. He’d hunt you down. He’d make you pay. Of course he’d show you some semblance of mercy once he was done punishing you—meaning he’d let you live. He was gracious and kind like that. And he would not let his future children grow up motherless. 

Of course, Eddie didn’t like the idea of his wife being able to defend herself from him, as she had demonstrated mere moments ago. Eddie’s teeth sunk into his cheek as dull pain throbbed through him and he let out a curse, pulling his trousers back on and pinning them up with his belt before starting after his runaway bride. It was _his_ job to be the protector. He was the only one who should have the power in his relationship. That’s what made it such a beautiful thing. Having someone depend on him was intoxicating…

When the groom left the bedroom and he didn’t immediately see your running form, his lips tightened. If another variant had gotten to you he’d kill him and stuff his throat with his own tongue. However, his worries quickly left him. You had taken the wedding dress with you after all, hadn’t you? It acted as a mark on you—claiming you as his, although Eddie doubted you knew it or put any thought into it. If variants saw a stitched wedding dress they knew to back off of whoever it was clinging to, less they invoke his vengeful wrath. 

Meanwhile, you stuck to the shadows. The window you had seen when Eddie had carried you from the chapel came to your mind. You hand reached out for something, anything, you could use to smash through it. Your hand found an old, bloodied candelabra that felt cold in your hands. Blindly, you stumbled until you spotted the stream of moonlight that signaled the position of the window, your salvation, your gleaming hope. You could hear the groom as you approached the window.

“Darling, you’ve made me _so, so_ angry! Let’s make a little deal; come back to me and be a loving wife and all will be forgiven…”

His voice was dripping with that poison honey. You had figured that by now he would have figured out that you could see right through his charming shamble of a facade. Apparently not. Like anything he would say would ever lure you back to him. 

You. Were. _Not._ Eddie Gluskin’s. _Fucking_. Bitch. 

You raised your arm, your lips set in a rigid line of pure determination. At full force, you brought it down upon the window. The crack of glass was shrill through the halls. Your blood pumped strongly, filling your ears with their clamorous sounds. You beat harder against the window. Eddie’s voice was nothing but a murmur in the back of your mind now. The adrenaline tuned him out as glass exploded into the outside world—right down into the courtyard and into the darkness. You broke off more of the glass, pushing it out with the metal base of the candelabra. It was a big enough gap for you to slip through. You climbed up on the thick windowsill, pushing your legs through the space. You ignored the fact that you didn’t know how long the fall was. 

Eddie finally caught a glimpse of you. He had simply followed the sound of smashing glass that made his heart race frantically in his bare, coarsely haired chest. He called out to you. You looked up and fixed him with your narrowed (E/C) gaze. It was obvious that he had rushed to find you, judging by how sloppily the belt was adjusted around his waist. His pants were low enough for you to see the fine line of dark hair running up to his mid abdomen. 

Eddie’s own pale blue eyes narrowed as he stared back at you. How dare you look at your husband like that? After all he’d done for you! He knew he could only swallow his anger for so much longer. But he knew you didn’t respond well to his preferred method—brute force. He’d give negotiating with you one more chance. You tilted your head to the side slightly as he cleared his throat and his facial expression eased.

“You’d be safe with me,” he told you. He held out a large hand like it was some holy offering you didn’t deserve. “You can’t leave me. You’ve seen yourself what lurks in this place, darling. I can protect you. You can have a family. _We_ can have a family. Please, come back to bed, my love. We have _much_ work to do. After all…” His voice seemed to take on a more sinister growl as he took a step forwards. “ _What other choice do you have?_ ” 

The frown on your lips deepened. Your brows lowered as you moved your arm. Eddie hoped it was a motion indicating a change in your mind, in your heart, in your-

Instead a metal candelabra flew at him. It narrowly cut past his slicked black hair, crashing somewhere farther down the dark hallway. He barely even had time to curse at you, to call you out as the ungrateful cunt you were, before you spoke first. Although your voice was low, almost soft and feminine, grace upon his ears, it struck him as powerfully as a scream. 

“Go _fuck_ yourself.” 

You kissed your middle finger and jerked it in his general direction before shoving against the windowsill, propelling the rest of your body out the window. 

The cold, black night air rushed past you as you directed your gaze upwards. For the first time in months you saw the stars glittering above. A strange sense of relief filled you. A soft wheeze escaped you as you landed against something—a bush or some sort of severely overgrown shrubbery. You were surprised none of the twigs had pierced through your body as you had fallen quite a long way. Looks like the moment you ditched Eddie Gluskin your luck had begun to turn. How interesting. You chose not to move upon spotting Eddie’s silhouette in the window. His words, carried by the harsh night wind reached your ringing ears.

_“We could have been beautiful…”_


End file.
